Honestly, I’m currently too tired right now to be insecure in my writing. There’s just too much going on in my life. Which means that although I still have goals and am taking part in NaNo, I’m just not going to worry about getting anything more done than what I’m capable of in the last two months of this year.

I’m currently FAR behind on NaNoWriMo, thanks to entering November with a flu/throat infection.

Yes, 2014 is still to stop being a d*ck at every turn.

It did, however, give me THE MOST astounding paranormal experience of my life. Which, coming from me, says a lot. And it was convenient enough to make the date easy to remember, since it happened today at 1 a.m.

Since I missed out on posting on Halloween, I’m going to share this here. Also, because I really want to find out if anyone has experienced something similar and if you have suggestions as to what it could be.

I was sleeping rather restlessly, since I suffer from night terrors. For those of you who don’t know what night terrors are: It’s basically a condition where you “get a nightmare” in the deepest stages of sleep. Which means that yes, I do see some seriously weird stuff all the time. Hyper real and hyper terrifying. A lot of people don’t remember the exact nature of the night terrors. Nor do they remember having them.

I’ve sort of learned to recognize them as they occur, since they occur so often. Which means that I’ve been able to remember some aspects of the night terrors. At least so that if they repeat, I recognize them. ESPECIALLY the really creepy stuff.

Anyway. The point here is that I am VERY aware of the difference between dreams and reality, because it’s usually the only thing keeping me from screaming like a girl and running through the house like a crazy person.

So at about midnight, two of my cats wanted to be let out, so I walked through my dark bedroom to the front door and opened it by feel. Do it all the time, so I’m not all that bothered with it. I got back into bed and continued with my restless sleep.

In this time, some sort of night terror. One of my recurring ones. And then suddenly, out of the blue, I hear a (actually very nice-sounding) male voice say: “I’m here.”

At the same time, my room’s lights turn on. As in on-on. Bright on. Enough to wake me up and say “What the hell?!”

So there I am, completely awake, sitting on my bed. There’s no one there. And we live in a old house with wooden floors. If someone had walked into my room to turn the light on, I would have heard.

And then… Nothing. No shadows. No cold spots. No feelings of dread. The one cat who’d remained on the bed with me kept right on sleeping. So it was just me, wondering who the “I” from “I’m here.” was supposed to be.

I got up and turned off the light, checked the time on my phone and got back in bed. And wondered… and wondered… and wondered…

Because see, I don’t think this was a ghost. I know how ghosts feel.

There was nothing creepy except for the pure weirdness of it all.

And nothing as shocking as realizing that sometimes, the unexplained can really be obvious about letting us know they exist.

Hi all! Today I welcome Lee to MFB. She’s going to show off her writing chops to tell us about some scares she had in her house. She’s a wonderful lady, so if you want to find out more about her and her writing, please go say hi on her blog.

Take it away, Lee!

I don’t believe in ghosts. I don’t. Really. But . . .

Our house was built in the 1930’s as a mountain cabin for people from San Francisco who wanted to escape the city and live among the redwoods. We remodeled it when we moved in, adding a couple of rooms and reconfiguring the entrances and exits. I’m telling you this because it’s important to my story.

A few years ago things started appearing on stairs, on counters, and always in the original parts of the house. A red scarf came first, and I asked every one of my friends who’d visited in the previous month if it was theirs. “No.” was each person’s answer. I finally gave it away and forgot about it. I wouldn’t have remembered it, except a few months later, I tripped over a pile of combs and ribbons on the stairs up to my bedroom. I’m the only female who lives here. Still I discounted it. There had to be a logical explanation.

Then one day I went to my jewelry drawer to put on my favorite pearl earrings and there was only one in my jewelry box. I searched. I cleaned drawers. I accused my family of playing tricks on me and trying to make me think I was losing it. First things appeared, and then they disappeared, and I was getting a bit cranky.

After three years passed, I decided that earring was gone forever, so I had a jeweler make a matching one for me. I brought the two earrings home, opened my jewelry box to put them safely away, and there in the drawer was my long lost pearl earring. I don’t know how to explain why I have three pearl earrings, but I do.

Nothing else has happened for years, but a friend who spent the night in the old bedroom swears a ghost visited him. He described how a woman (At first he thought it was me.) entered the room. He said she ran her hand along the books on the shelf near the bed, then walked into the closet. That closet is located where the old entrance to the bedroom used to be. My theory, if I believed in ghosts, would be that the ghost knew her way around the old house and thought the closet was still the way out. Well, for her it was. She didn’t reappear, according to my guest. He’d never heard my stories about the appearing and vanishing items. He’s also never spent the night with us again.

I have two slots left. The dates are: 2 and 9 November. The them: Keeping Track. This could literally be about anything in writing within this theme. Or even if you want to follow Lee’s example, a story you want to tell. If you’re interested, please contact me at mishagericke(AT)gmail(DOT)com.

So sorry for being late. But I remembered just now that I promised Quinn I’d take part in the Boo-fest if my schedule opened up.

It did -spectacularly, I might add – so here I am.

BUT. As the heading says, something different is down there in the last half of the blog. So sceptics and people inclined to thing I might be slightly insane might want to stop around the eighth paragraph. You have been warned.

I don’t think I’ve ever not believed in ghosts. In fact. I can’t say that I’ve ever not believed in anything paranormal. Oh yes, this comes with lots of teasing – even from my father who is a full blown sceptic in all things generally considered dead. But if both your grandmothers have seen ghosts (my writing Gran has seen several including an interesting one I might tell you about.), your mother have seen ghosts and everyone (except your father) has independently been convinced even once (at the same time) that you’re living in a haunted house, it seems a whole lot stupider not to believe them.

So… our count so far…

Full body apparitions: Three. (or four or five) My dad’s mother once, twice by my gran the writer and two possibles by me. I say possibles because I saw them, went on with what I was doing and then double-took. Once I was half way between sleep and awake, but I’m pretty sure she was real since we were told the legend of the ghost residing in the residence after the dream. She wore what I saw in my dream and she died in the room beyond the room she entered by. Still. I’ve never been sure.

Shadows: multiple. Particularly noteworthy are a black spot moving around a sitting room of a friend’s house when my mother was in high school. It moved randomly, occurred regularly and have been seen by several people at the same time at several occasions. Another one is a shadow man seen by my mother and my brother in the same room of a house we wanted to buy. Power of suggestion? They were both freaked out and told me this separately over the course of a week. The kicker was that I didn’t tell either of them what the other said until he had left. They didn’t want to tell each other 1) because he was afraid of being ridiculed and 2) because she didn’t want to scare him. Final shadow of note is the one that always passed beneath my door with grunts and heavy breathing and the sounds of light switches… I always knew it was my grandfather… until my cousin and I (who were sharing the room at the time) saw it again – two years after he had passed away. It turns out that my cousin (who had taken my room after I moved out) saw it every night too, but never thought of it since it never occurred to her that shadows could also be ghosts. When we told our gran about this, she burst out laughing and told us that it is believed by the local Sotho population that the house is haunted by an old gentleman. So I assume my confusion was natural. This is also the only haunting that I experienced that didn’t give me a single creepy feeling. If ever there has been a benign house ghost… that gentleman was it.

Poltergeists: Me and my mother at the same time, but I was a baby. This was in my other Grandmother’s bedroom. She got hit with it very often until she had moved out. My one cousin sleeps on the floor quite often because he gets tired of being shoved out of bed by nothing.

Demons: One demon, seen by both my mother and grandmother. And… I’ll get to this later. Maybe.

Omens: My mother was in hospital the night before the c-section delivery of her twins. She woke up when she felt a someone walking into the room. She saw a woman who had drawn the curtains of the window and was staring at the town’s lights below (the hospital is built on a hill). My mother demanded what she was doing there, but the woman just nonchalantly looked at her over her shoulder and said: “Hah. And you think you’re going to raise twins.” My mother launched over to the light switch, but when the light was on, she was gone. Sadly, my mother gave birth to Siamese twins who died four days later. She was never even allowed to see them.

Angels: Many experiences, but as far as I have been told, I’m the only one that have seen them. One when I was little in a house I knew was haunted by something that scared the bejeebies out of me. Once again I was in a sleep like state, so I can’t really confirm. The other, on the other hand, made its way across my living room in right in front of my eyes – quite leisurely I might add. No doubt there.

There’s actually a long story behind this. But lets settle to say I’m a bit more in tuned with the realm people like to believe doesn’t exist than is normal.

No dears. I’m quite serious and for all my insanity, I am not delirious. Also, I am not a medium, psychic or in by any stretch of the imagination satanistic. I’m am blessed with what is referred to in the Bible as the Gift of Discernment of Spirits. Basically, the sensitivity to thing that can’t be seen. It’s just one of a list of gifts. Other Christians can pray for people to be healed, can speak in tongues, can prophecy etc.

Me? I am aware of things that can most of the time not be described as a picnic by any stretch of the imagination. Which is why I went to the seminar I mentioned before. I needed to find someone who understands. Fortunately I did, but neither of us understands a lot of it, simply due to the fact that it seems to be quite rare – or else people rarely want to use it. I would not blame people for this. It does get a bit of a downer when you look at people and see someone in the clutches you would rather not have them be in. Still, there’s little I can do except for praying. I mean. Imagine the conversation that would follow if I actually approached the person. Not pretty.

But I digress. All this hit me earlier this year when it was pointed out to me by a real person that I did not know previously that I can be seen there, so my hiding from what I know is out there is pretty pointless. My hiding comes from something different altogether, but 1) I’m writing this at eleven at night and 2) I still prefer to not think of it. Which is why despite the earlier promise, I decided to rather not expand on it.

Anyway. Well… I decided to stop hiding and promptly got hit by something beyond your wildest imaginings. But, for fear of being too vague, here’s an analogy what fits quite well. Imagine this, if you have not been exposed to anything of this nature. 1) You have placed yourself in a bullet proof room. 2) A huge bomb is set off right next to it. 3) The blast didn’t get through to you, but you sure as hell felt it.

Not fun when the attack is relentless for about four hours. One of which was an economics lecture. And due to my sensitivity to it, I got treated to every freaking second of it. Finally I asked God to protect me, at which point I was told that I had been surrounded by angels – even though I had been protected before.

I still felt the attacks though, but I felt a lot more at peace about them. Still part of me wondered if I imagined what I heard. At which point I looked up and saw Mr. Angel sauntering past.

Still, things can get pretty creepy. For example, I also have someone haunting my dreams. And my general impression is that he isn’t exactly a nice someone. Note. Someone. Not something.

I’d have your generically random dream. It would be vivid and raucous and would hardly ever make any sense.

And then – as if someone had cut the film running in my head – everything would stop and go very quiet. I would be in my room and he would be staring down on me watching me sleep. The thing about him that gets to me, though, is that he never actually does anything. He just stands at the corner of my bed and stares. I used to wake up almost instantly and freak out. But then I realized that a) he can’t hurt me and/or b) he doesn’t want to.

I’m pretty sure that option a) is the thing, but whether or not b) is actually a factor bothers me when I’m awake. Because if b) is true… why in the name of all that is holy does he hang around staring at me while I sleep? Why, if he doesn’t seem to be a nice guy (and instinct says he’s as strong as any of the culprits that hit my defenses every now and then) does he come back night after night just to look at me?

I mean… once is weird. Twice is a weird coincidence. Four times can be seen as recurring. But he’s been coming by since March. If he doesn’t make his presence known in some way or the other at least once a fortnight, part of me wonders where he is. And no. My subconscious wondering don’t summon him. He comes and goes as he pleases. In fact, if I don’t wake up when I see him, he’ll stare, I’ll stare, he’ll stare some more and then he will just not be there. He doesn’t vanish, he doesn’t walk out. I’ll just realize that he isn’t there any more, turn around and go back to dreams per usual as if they hadn’t been interrupted.

Thing is.. Last Friday, I think he did a walk by while I was showering. He didn’t peek or anything. I just saw someone move past through the shower curtain, did a double take and followed his silhouette moving across it. Oh and… the window in my bathroom gets no light, so shadows aren’t just coincidental. Curiously, I wasn’t freaked out as much as ticked off. I mean… I was showering! Where is his sense of decorum?

Tss… but then it wouldn’t fit with his not quite nice persona either.

Anyway… before I start to really freak you out by turning this into a novel, I’ll stop now.

I’d love to hear from you all about this. Ever ran into ghosts? Sceptic? I don’t mind, but I’d like to know why. I won’t argue with you on this though.

Anyone else had someone walk into their dreams that you instinctively know is actually more human than the normal dream fodder? If so… How did you handle him/her?